


That's What I'm Supposed To Do

by CreativelyChallenged



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativelyChallenged/pseuds/CreativelyChallenged
Summary: I haven't quite decided where I'm going with this, I'm afraid - so the title might end up seeming a bit mis-leading.Where are we?  We're at CNN, August 2007.  Will and Mac are a couple, and they live in DC.I have always been a bit frustrated by all the weird holes and gaps and inconsistencies in these characters' back stories, so I'm trying to work around the clues that Sorkin left in the first and last episodes, primarily.





	1. Journalistic Integrity

“Mackenzie, I can’t believe I have to go over this with you for the 400th time; the Protect America Act didn’t actually change anything, it just brought under specific legislation surveillance that’s been happening for decades. It’s not the top story. The top story is President Bush and Karzai at Camp David. It’s a no brainer!”

The team of producers in the conference room are silent as Will stares down Mackenzie over the rundown for the evening’s show. After twenty minutes of debate, Will barely attempts to conceal his impatience and his voice is raised, his words rapid fire. Whilst the staff look intently at their Blackberrys, Mackenzie fires back with barely a moment of hesitation.

“Listen here, pal o’ mine, just because it’s been happening for decades doesn’t make it OK, and in fact all the back and forth in the courts over the course of the last god knows how long is evidence of that. I don’t mean to denigrate your beloved President Bush, because god forbid he may have some ideas for how to run this country that I’m not entirely in agreement with, but the Act encroaches on the civil liberties of American people. If this were Clinton, you’d be jumping up and down about now shouting profanities about just that. Will, you’re not an idiot, but right now you sure are allowing your political bias to sway your journalistic integrity. It might…”

Will interrupts her, face flushed with fury. “So now you’re questioning my journalistic _integrity_?” What was previously a raised voice becomes a throaty shout. “How dare you, Mackenzie, how dare you question my integrity.” 

He leans forward and stabs his forefinger onto the desk in front him. “First off, am I saying it doesn’t go in the rundown? No, I’m saying it goes in the B block.” The jab of his forefinger is repeated. “Secondly, don’t you think that I might, just might, on a point of law, have a little more understanding of the topic than you? That I might be familiar with the facts of the cases that have been brought under FISA? That in three years at Columbia Law School I might have picked up a few things on, oh, I don’t know, Constitutional fucking law?!”

Mackenzie, who realized her mistake the moment Will interrupted her, widens her eyes and shrinks back just slightly into herself. “I was wrong, I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have implied that your integrity was in question.” She sees Will immediately deflate some as she apologises, but the fury in his eyes and the red in his cheeks are still clear for all to see. “OK, here’s what we’ll do.” Mackenzie turns to her senior producer as she says this and adds, “Anna, can you please get a team together, look at the background on the NSA surveillance since 9/11. Craig,” Mackenzie turns to her most experienced associate producer, “same for you but I want you to put together some info on Karzai, the meeting, Afghanistan and keep an eye on what’s coming out of Camp David – start calling your sources.”

Will by this time, though still tense, has calmed significantly. Mackenzie quietly breathes a sigh of relief. “Right, let’s try this again at noon’s rundown meeting. Good morning everyone.”  
The staff file out, leaving Mackenzie and Will alone in the conference room.

“Mac, I…”

“Sorry…”

They speak over each other. Will gestures for Mackenzie to continue.

“I’m sorry again Will. You know how I get, and I know I should stop using the fact that it’s a Republican president as a stick to beat you with. I should also probably stop thinking that just because we’re in a relationship it gives me licence to wind you up so much. I just want the show to be the best it can be, you know? Sometimes my passion gets the better of me.”

Will, by now significantly calmer, allows a pause before responding. “Kenz, I know you do. In some ways, I don’t take it personally, but you’re right – you really need to stop thinking that I’m letting things slide because it’s Bush and because I feel any sense of loyalty to him or his father. I may not have been a journalist for as long as you, but I’m coming up 6 years and I really think I have a handle on this journalism business.” A small smile appears on Mackenzie’s face. “So we’re OK?”

“We’re OK, until noon I guess, when we get to do it all again.”

Will stands up and approaches Mackenzie. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gives them a gentle squeeze. “Nah, FISA is going in the A block.” Will smiles and kisses her forehead. Mackenzie, who falls somewhere between irritated and amused, is dumbstruck and simply stares wide-eyed at Will, mouth agape. Sensing the need to make his exit, he turns on his heels and leaves the room.

* * * * *

“Mac!” Anna calls from across the bullpen. Mackenzie changes course and walks in her direction.

“Uh-huh, what do you need?”

“Mackenzie, look, we’re about to go in the noon rundown, I have the guys ready with their research, their facts and figures, you know the drill. Please tell me we are not seriously considering leading with an asinine presser out of Camp David? Honestly, Craig has struggled to wring anything out of it beyond, ‘Bush and Karzai meet, they spoke about being allies, the struggles in the Middle East, they said they have respect for each other.’ It’s all pretty pedestrian stuff.”

Mackenzie looks up at Anna and smirks a little before replying, “I guess we’ll have to see what Will thinks when we go into the rundown, but I’m pretty sure that after we show him what’s what, and now he’s seen that presser, the story you’ve been working on all morning will bear fruit.”

“Thank god, because really I don’t think the kids here could handle another battle of the wits. I know you guys are just expressing – um, let’s say vehemently, your thoughts, but the team struggle sometimes with how heated it gets. Not all of them are as hard nosed or experienced as you, Will or I are, you know?”

Anna, in her mid 40s, mother of three teenage boys and in many ways Mackenzie’s crutch rather than subordinate, who loves her job but who loves being a parent more and never took an Executive Producer job out of choice rather than lack of opportunity, smiles kindly at Mackenzie and gives a quick wink before going back to her team to prepare their pitch for the rundown.

Mackenzie, who was a little embarrassed at having had to be told, effectively, to behave more professionally, immediately makes her way to Will’s office.

Will was leaning back on his chair, feet on his desk, holding a cigarette and a legal pad. Van Morrison played in the background and his feet were moving to the rhythm of _Tore Down A La Rimbaud_. He looked up as Mackenzie entered, and flung his feet off his desk as she did so.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you until the rundown.”

“No, I know, I just had a little chat with Anna. She made what I think is a valid point so I think we need to address it. She pointed out that, well, our screaming matches in rundown meetings aren’t really a great example to set to the staff. Before you lose it, she was much, much more tactful than that but the point remains. Will, I understand that we are going to disagree sometimes –“

“Only sometimes?”

“Fine, more than sometimes, on the rundown or what goes into the show and what doesn’t, but it cannot happen the way it did today. We have to discuss it rationally and if we can’t do that, we have to end the meeting, give the staff their assignments, and discuss it alone with Anna.”

“OK, that seems fair. Frankly I feel like I’ve achieved what I need to as far as instilling fear of me into the staff so that suits me.” With a flourish, Will takes one last drag of his cigarette and stubs it out in his ashtray.

Mackenzie cocks her head to the side and scrunches her face momentarily before replying. “OK? Is that it? All you have to say is OK?”

Will isn’t sure whether he’s supposed to laugh so instead opts for a heavy sigh. “Yes, that’s it. Mac, what is it with you lately? I feel like you want to pick fights with me – snarky comments about my integrity, getting annoyed if I have one more Scotch than you’d like me to, rolling your eyes when I pick up my acoustic, now it’s even because I’m straight up agreeing with you? What gives?”

Mackenzie crosses her arms in front of her and looks down at her shoes. “Nothing, honestly. Do I seem snappy? I guess I’m just tired. Don’t we have a week off for Labour day at the end of the month? That’ll give me the rest I need. As for your smoking, that’s just concern for your health, is all.”

Will looks at her skeptically. “OK, if you say so. Want to grab Chinese take out and head back to mine tonight?”

“Sure, yeah, sounds great – but at mine instead? I really want to spend a night in my own bed.”

“Suits me,” Will responds with a shrug and a sudden attentiveness to his legal pad.

“Great, see you later.”

Mackenzie leaves the room, and Will looks up at his door as it swings shut, eyebrows furrowed.


	2. Wicked Bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am on a little holiday from tomorrow, but wanted to get something down before I went. It's a filler more than anything, but hopefully it feels like we're on some kind of narrative path...............

It may have been a slightly watered down assessment of the FISA situation, but Mackenzie thanks everyone in the control room and removes her headset with the relative satisfaction of a job well done.

Anna interrupts her reverie, “Mac, a bunch of us are headed to Wicked Bloom for post work cocktails – it’s been a hell of a day. You wanna join?” 

“Sounds great – Will and I’ll meet you there, I have a few things to tie up before I leave.”

Anna smiles kindly at her. “An EP’s work is never done!” and breezes out of the control room.

Mackenzie looks up at the monitors at Will, still at the anchor desk, ear piece out, staring intently at his Blackberry. She heads into the studio.

Will glances up at her as she enters. “Good job tonight, though I don’t that I did journalism any favours by covering Isner and Roddick in the B block,” he shrugs as he finishes and glances back at his Blackberry.

“Come on Will, it’s been six months, you know the rules,” Mackenzie fleetingly rolls her eyes as she speaks.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, one for us, one for the network, I know, I know, you don’t need to keep reminding me. I do it, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

Will tilts his head almost theatrically from side to side to express his churlish understanding of their arrangement. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, absolutely – couple of things I need to tie up in my office. Anna asked if we wanted to go to Wicked Bloom, I said OK. We’ll just head there for one – half an hour, 45 minutes tops, I promise.”

Will, who has made his feelings about post work drinks pretty clear to Mackenzie, pauses for a moment in quiet frustration at the disruption for his plans of Chinese and a quiet evening. Mackenzie can read his expression, but chooses to ignore it. They both know that somewhere in the secret rulebook of societal convention that is effectively meaningless and, particularly as far as Will is concerned, bears no relation to the maintenance of successful professional relations, the boss is supposed to make merry with the staff every once in a while. It’s just that, this evening, with the morning’s argument with Mackenzie still percolating at the back of his mind and the general tension that’s been a seemingly permanent presence between them over the last few weeks, he’d rather have rain checked on the drinks.

Ever the Mackenzie pleaser, Will duly changes and presents himself ready for duty in Mackenzie’s office by 7:20 and they head towards the bar, Will all the while steeling himself for small talk and a touch of sycophancy.

* * * * *

Mackenzie, upon entering the bar, gratefully catches Anna’s eye, who immediately bounds over to greet them.

“Will, wow, we are honoured our esteemed anchor could join us!” Anna winks cheekily as she speaks. “I think I heard Craig a few minutes ago expressing his hope that he might grab a couple of minutes with you to pitch a story. I think he wants to discuss the mid terms. He seems very excited about Nancy Pelosi, let me tell you. Actually, I shouldn’t, I’ll let him tell you all about her. I honestly think he has a thing for her, so don’t be surprised if he pitches a trip to California for an in depth interview.”

Mackenzie laughs sweetly as she looks at Will. “That sounds like your kind of after work conversation – why don’t we get Craig over to have just that discussion?”

Will, with mock horror, shakes his head, “You know, I think I’m OK this evening without hearing the virtues of Ms Pelosi and her achievements.” Will turns to Anna, “Anna, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m here because my beloved has once again bewitched me into agreeing to her every whim. I’m here for one drink, ideally with as little interaction with the team as possible, before I head to Georgetown and Kung Pao Chicken and Mackenzie’s apartment.”

Anna, who has decided that given their similar ages, she is in prime position to tease Will for his misanthropy, has a twinkle in her eye as she glances at Mac and looks back to Will. “Now Will, I have absolutely no doubt that in an ideal world you would spend every waking moment exclusively with Mackenzie and, it would now appear, Kung Pao Chicken, but these people work for you and they’re young, and for some reason the fact that you’re a grumpy middle aged man makes them think that your opinion has some kind of value, so every so often, you could cut them some slack and do yourself a favour by spending an hour with them after work, maybe show them that one of your parents at least was human, even if the other was Data from Star Trek and let them share their ideas with you.” She raises and eyebrow and does a lop sided grin as she catches on to his non-plussed expression and, sensing no immediate danger from him, continues, “Now, what do you say I grab you a Johnnie Walker Black Label and you head over to your team in the corner for some post work chit-chat. Mackenzie and I will join you in a couple of minutes – try not to insult all of the staff before we get back.”

Will, dumbfounded, can think of nothing to do but head over to the staff as instructed by Anna. He can hardly hear Mackenzie and Anna giggling as he walks away with a mumbled, “Better make it a double. Neat.”

* * * * *

Anna and Mackenzie find two stools at the bar and Anna gestures for Mackenzie to sit.

“So, with Will sent to the lions, you wanna tell me what gives?” Anna smiles her disarming smile as she cuts straight to the point with Mackenzie.

Mackenzie, a little thrown by the suddenness of the question, takes a moment to respond. “What do you mean? Everything’s fine, we’re fine. This morning was just, you know, one of those things. You know how he and I get when we disagree about the direction of the show.”

Anna crosses her arms and looks at Mackenzie doubtfully. “Uh, yeah, I know how you get. That’s why I know that something is up. You know why? Because I’m not straight out of college, I’ve been around people, I’ve lived a little, I’ve even experienced marriage, all 18 years of it, so you could say I know the ups and downs of relationships. You know what it looks like to me?” Anna doesn’t wait for a response, because Anna doesn’t need to wait for a response. “It looks to me like you’re picking arguments. Here’s what I haven’t worked out yet. I don’t know if it’s because you’ve decided you want out of your relationship and haven’t worked up the guts to go, or if for some reason you’ve decided that Will wants out, or should want out, or will want out. It’s all pretty typical stuff. Trust me, Mackenzie. Whatever tactic you think you’re playing, it’s the oldest one in the book and if I’ve seen it, it’s a matter of time before Will sees it. Will, because he’s blindly in love with you, is gonna ignore it for a while even when he does see it. 

You don’t have to talk to me about it; in fact, you don’t have to discuss it with anybody, but whatever is going on in that head of yours, you better work it out before Will does and you find yourself down a path you don’t choose. You hear what I’m saying?”

Mackenzie, stunned by Anna’s statement, glares wide-eyed at her. Before there’s a chance to respond, a bar tender commands Anna’s attention for a drinks order and Mackenzie finds herself with a reprieve to process what she’s just heard.


	3. It's In The Past, I Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm lying on the couch of my apartment in Rome, and this has been percolating. I'm typing on my phone so apologies for typos and any sloppiness of expression. Let's see how this goes.......
> 
> (Edit: 1am, three glasses of wine, and typing on a phone led to some inevitable errors. I have hopefully corrected them.)

"Look, Will, I'm not expecting you to sign off on funding for me to head to California and interview every Democratic Congressman, but Nancy Pelosi is a sure bet to become Majority Leader come November, and if we take ourselves seriously as a news organisation, we need to make nice with her staff, with her, and with every Representative from the Democratic Party we can. When they win the House, they'll be valuable sources that will remember to speak to us because we took them seriously before anybody else." 

Craig, four beers in and perhaps a little more earnestly expressing himself than he might have intended, looks wide eyed at Will as he finishes his monologue.

Will, who hears Mackenzie's voice in the back of his mind - They're young Will, they're keen. As the anchor, it's your job to encourage and nurture their enthusiasm. Remember, you were that age once, with all the idealism that goes along with it. Be kind. - nods indulgently and with a vague half attempt at a smile at Craig. He doesn't want to come across as condescending, but he knows he's about to because, well, it's just a plain fact of math that he's 20 years older (easily) than handsome, hard working, articulate, Ivy League educated, floppy haired Craig. 

"Craig, I'm in no way disagreeing with you in relation to cultivating sources, nor do I disagree with you - obviously - that all signs point to a Democratic majority in the House. It's great for Nancy Pelosi, it's great for Democrats, it's great as a symbol for women's equality," Will leans towards Craig as he speaks, "But if you honestly think that we're the first news organisation to have worked out what's about to happen, then hell, what have you been doing in our newsroom the past four years?" Will can't stop himself: it's Will, he tries to be forgiving, but his sensibilities get the better of him. He knows Mackenzie would hate it but before he can stop himself the words leave his mouth; "Any idiot with the internet has worked it out, and any journalist with a dictaphone - even if they work for the Bismarck Tribune - understands that they need to lay their hat at the door of the Democrats right now! Plus, get this, you - and I - work for CNN! Did you know? Cos I'm pretty sure everybody's aware of how strong we as a network think the Democrats are going into November! Is it really that important - and I ask this seriously because I wanna know what you think - that our show needs to be flying cross country to interview for five minutes a woman that can save herself for one Sunday show a week and guarantee all the air time and column inches she could possibly need?"

The look in Craig's eyes gives away the realisation of his naive error to bring up the topic of the mid terms with Will. He desperately glances around, and gratefully meet's Mackenzie's eye as Will opens his mouth to continue. "Listen, kid," (It's Will, and he's nice and all, but he's really not one to suffer fools gladly, and definitely one to encourage the journalists around him to make the same mistake only once, even if it means he has to deliver a harsh lesson or twenty.) "I don't think you came to me with this for any ridiculous reason, and if we were at Fox News or ACN I would totally take on board your point. No, we're not MSNBC but honestly aside from those guys, we could not any more be perceived to be in the pockets of the Democratic Party," Mackenzie has joined them by now and interjects...

"Hey, Craig, let's do a deal. Nancy Pelosi takes the Majority Leader's office, and you're the first from the show to interview her," Mackenzie smiles her most disarming smile briefly at Craig, and then turns to face Will, upon whose shoulder her arm is resting. "Ready to go?"

It takes Will maybe two thirds of a second to look at his half finished Scotch, decide he's beyond ready and bring his glass to his mouth. Mackenzie and Craig exchange meaningful glances as Will finishes and says a curt goodbye to Craig.

* * * * *

"Will, I just don't understand why you always default to being so combative," Mackenzie sighs as they enter her apartment.

Will, who has had enough Scotch to be exactly that, responds before he's really thought about the words, "Huh, that's some irony right there. You accusing me of being combative."

Mackenzie, who is bent over pulling off her shoe, snaps to attention and turns to Will, shoe in hand. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"God Mac, don't give me that. You. Combative. For weeks. Do you honestly think I'm so short sighted I forgot about our conversation this morning?"

"Will, honestly, I don't know what you're talking about, I've already said I'm tired and stressed, and specifically right now I'm exhausted and just want my Chinese and to go to bed. Can we put a pin in this?"

Will, who wants to believe Mackenzie and to pass off her odd behaviour as exhaustion, can't let go. A month ago, he was planning to ask her to move in with him, and now he isn't even sure she wants to be with him. Every night as he tosses and turns in bed he shuts out the thought that she might simply have decided he's not good enough for her.

"Mac, I'm going to ask you a question now, and I really need you to be up front with me."

"Will, of course, what kind of a request is that?"

"What were you discussing so intently with Anna this evening?"

Mackenzie isn't sure what to say. She was disarmed by the question, thinking any intense discussion with Anna would be immune from probing by the lawyer stood before her. (Not for the first time, her father's words bounced around in her mind - "Mackenzie, he may call himself a journalist now, but never forget that once a lawyer, always a lawyer. It's not just a profession, it's a way of thinking.") Mackenzie gathers her wits after only the slightest of pauses and replies, "We were just discussing the challenge of our Grosse Führer's restrictions on the show and how we might be able to get around them."

Will, seeing the pause, the hard swallow, and hearing the edginess in Mackenzie's voice as she responds, wants to say nothing, wants to accept what she has said and enjoy what's left of the evening. His intellectual curiosity and insecure heart get the better of him. "Mac, come on, is that really what you were discussing? Because those kinds of conversations usually see you as ring leader and tonight, from what I saw, was a lot of Anna talking at you and you looking anxious. So. Wanna share?"

Mackenzie, standing at the kitchen island, bag of untouched Chinese food in front of her, waves her hand across her front. 

"Look, I mean, I think it was Anna being a little too cautious. She just wanted to talk about our argument at the rundown this morning. I told you what she said afterward, this evening was just a reiteration of that."

"Mackenzie, look, I'm sorry to say this, but I don't believe you. Mac, I don't know what's going on right now, but what I do know is that the relationship I was in a month ago looked nothing like the one I'm in now."

Mackenzie frowns a little, upset at hearing from Will the truth she's been trying to ignore. Whilst he looks at her intently, waiting for the words he hopes she'll say to fix everything, the frown becomes confusion mixed with a long look of sorrow.

Will, sensing this conversation isn't about to go any further but understanding the sadness in Mackenzie's eyes, makes his excuses. "Mac, it's fine, maybe you're not ready to talk. I think I should go, head back to DuPont Circle," Will shrugs in defeat.

He starts to make his way to the door and a couple of paces before he reaches it he is stopped by hearing Mac call out, "But Will...!"

He turns to look at her, hopeful that she's about to give him the breakthrough he so desperately wants. When he looks at her for what feels like minutes rather than seconds, and she is frozen to the spot in the kitchen doorway, he knows he's not about to hear what he needs to. He turns back towards the door and leaves, not sure where to go from here and frustrated that still, or maybe again, Mackenzie doesn't seem able to confide in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Craig - to my mind portrayed by a late-90s Luke Wilson...


	4. Penfolds Grange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few people are wondering where we're at in the timeline of Will and Mac's relationship. This chapter should clarify...!

Mackenzie tentatively walks into Will's office, having spent an hour staring out of her office door waiting for him to enter the newsroom.

Will looks up, the smallest hint of sadness and frustration in his eyes, "Morning Mackenzie," he has a tone of formality about him. He seems to be attempting to speak again, but he can think of nothing to add and decides instead to reach for a cigarette.

"Will, about last night, I wish you hadn't left like that. I just didn't know what to say to you. I don't want to tell you about my conversation with Anna beyond what I told you already. I wasn't lying; that I need you to know."

Mackenzie is still standing next to Will's door, too scared to venture further into his office. Will, still unsure of what to say, simply takes a deep drag of his cigarette and shrugs his shoulders.

"Let me make it up to you tonight? We'll go to yours and I'll cook you lasagne, we'll open one of the bottles of Penfold Grange my brother bought us."

Will wants for everything to go back to normal, and decides that if 'fake it til you make it' is the tactic Mac's going for, he'll follow suit. "Sure, sounds good. You want me to get the housekeeper to pick up the groceries?"

"No, no, I'll pop out at lunchtime for them," Mackenzie visibly relaxes, her shoulders going down to their normal position. "I'd better get ready for the first run down," she turns to leave, putting her hand on the door but turns before she pulls on it, "I love you Will. Don't forget that."

"I love you too Mackenzie. I'll see you at the rundown."

* * * * *

"That was amazing, thank you. Wine's pretty good too. Gotta admit, I wasn't expecting much from an Australian wine."

"Will, for a farm boy from Nebraska you're quite the snob," Mackenzie gently teases as she gathers the plates to clear.

"Don't forget, born a farm boy, graduated a North Eastern liberal elitist," Will responds with a lobsided smirk. "Anyway, Miss St Paul's, I thought you appreciate my snobbish streak."

"I really would love to know exactly what you think went on at English girls' schools in the 80s. They were too busy hammering Shakespeare into our heads and worrying how many of us would get into Oxbridge to give a moment's thought to wine knowledge. Anyway Heather Brigstocke would never have allowed us to think we were better than anyone just because of the school we were at, nor because of who our parents might have been," Mackenzie's voice tightens and becomes a little defensive as she finishes speaking.

"I know Mac, I was just teasing you, relax," Will replies, eyebrows furrowed not for the first time today when talking to Mackenzie.

"Sorry, yes, of course, sorry, I, um, you know how, um, you know how we English get about our education," Mackenzie tries to give a little titter but it comes off as awkward. She makes her way to the kitchen side of the room with the plates, hoping to end the conversation and move on. 

Will, who has no desire to make yet another evening strained, announces that he'll take the wine through to the living room, "Maybe I'll let you kick my ass at Scrabble again," he adds. Mackenzie looks up from where she's loading the plates into the dishwasher: "Maybe for once, I'll let you win," she grins.

* * * * *

"DISTANT - terrible word but it's all I've got I'm afraid," Mackenzie says as she counts up the score.

"Hmmm, that's accurate in several ways," Will retorts under his breath and before he can catch himself.

Mackenzie's head snaps up to glare at him. "What does that mean?"

Will, who was about to apologise, desperately not wanting another interaction between them to become awkward and tense, decides with Mackenzie's response to take the bull by the horns and find out once and for all whether she's as much in this relationship as him.

"How many times do we have to have slightly different versions of the same conversation Mackenzie? A month ago we were talking about marriage, OK, not tomorrow but I thought that was where our relationship was headed, now you're defensive, snappy, distant, and if you honestly think I believe its tiredness that's caused a sea change in our relationship, then we need to talk about how stupid you think I am. I don't need to explain to you how much I love you, I think you know it, but I'm not blind. Don't you want to be with me? Is that it? You decided you don't want to marry me, have a life with me?"

"Will, don't be crazy, of course I want to be with you! I love you!"

"Mackenzie, do not call me crazy," Will almost growls in response. "I'm not your college boyfriend, I'm not 25. I'm a 48 year old man and I'd hope you'd credit me with the intelligence and skills of observation to recognise that something is not right."

Mackenzie takes a gulp of her wine, looks down, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She slowly opens her eyes and looks back up at Will.

"Will, I am absolutely in love with you. You are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Do you believe that?"

"I did, and I want to," Will does not take his eyes off Mackenzie as he speaks.

"Will, I have to tell you something, and I need you to promise you'll hear me out before you respond."

"You know me well enough to know O'm not going to make a promise like that of any kind," Will's voice is measured.

Mackenzie, knowing she can't stop now she's started, feels defeated already. "You know those moments in life where you know that a decision you've just made is going to dictate the path you go on for the rest of it? That's how I feel right now. I have to tell you what I'm about to tell you Will, but I am so cognisant of the possibility that this might be one of those moments," Mackenzie's voice is almost a whisper by the time she finishes.

"Mackenzie, what on earth are you talking about?" Will grips his wine glass a little tighter.

"Oh, god, I don't know where to begin," Mackenzie starts.

Will allows his impatience to get the better of him, "How about at the beginning of whatever the fuck it is you're about to tell me, Mackenzie. There are two of us in this room and you at least have the benefit of knowing what the fuck is going on."

Mackenzie, who raises one eyebrow and opens her mouth to retort in kind, quickly thinks better of it. She lowers the eyebrow, and reaches for a sip of wine. "Obviously the first year or so of us dating was a little tricky, what with my living in New York and your living here. I really liked you, but I didn't think I could commit whilst we were long distance and I was, as you know, reluctant to move to DC and uproot my life until I knew we were something that might become serious."

"Actually, I didn't know that," Will replies calmly.

"What do you mean you didn't know? Didn't know what?" Mackenzie allows a little frustration into her voice at Will's denial.

"I didn't know you were reluctant to move to DC. I actually was under the impression you wanted to work in DC, even to the point that at one point you'd been talking to Greta van Susteren. Do I have that wrong?" Will's lawyerly ways begin to show through.

"I did, for about five seconds, talk to Greta but not with any seriousness - I wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to work at Fox News and anyway I'd settled in New York by the time Greta got in touch with me," Mackenzie tries to remain calm in her response. "Anyway that's not really the point, except insofar as I was, as you know, in relationship until about 4 months before we started dating."

"Yes, I do know that, I have paid a little attention in the last two and a half years, Mackenzie."

"Right, well, as I was saying, obviously when we were living in separate cities or relationship was very different, you'd agree with that, right?"

"Yes, different, of course, because we were living in different cities," Will can't help but think Mackenzie is now stating nothing more than the obvious.

"So yes, different. And my break up with Brian had been very messy. He'd left me with some serious self esteem issues, you know? I'd been with him for five years and he'd spent most of that time trying to make sure I was what he perceived to be good enough for him. Giving me career 'advice' because he was such a hotshot and had come up through the ranks in New York, whilst I was 'green' from too many years at the BBC and 'cosy' London,"

"Mackenzie, what are you telling me all this for?"

Mackenzie, who wants not to be interrupted so she can get through what she needs to say, is terse as she says, "Well if you let me finish, you'll see why."

"OK, OK, I'm listening. Carry on," Will wafts his hand to signal her.

"Well, when we started dating, I started to realise that I didn't have to become good enough, I was already good enough. You showed me that, and God knows I needed to feel that way after Brian. But about three months after we started dating, and Brian got wind of CNN's latest star anchor taking me to the White House Correspondent's Dinner and he called me. He said he wanted to meet and go for a drink." Mackenzie pauses for another gulp of wine, looking at Will's now anxious face. "One drink became a few, and I spent the evening robustly explaining to him that I had realised - partly from being with you - that not only had I always been good enough for him but that he wasn't good enough for me. After a while of this, he announced to me that he'd realised it and that he was still in love with me. We'd not been dating long, I didn't know what we were, and there I was with a man who knew everything about me. He started talking about our history, reminding me of the good times. I can only put it down to the wine, but it stirred something inside me. I had this new found confidence, or re-found confidence, and when it came time to leave, I found myself in a cab with him heading to his place. You can guess the rest, I won't give you the details."

A seemingly interminable pause sits between them until Will recovers enough to finish the rest of his wine before speaking. "And this was a one time thing?"

Mackenzie nervously shakes her head, looking down as she does so. "I wish I could say so, but no, it wasn't. But Will, as soon as I knew we were something serious, that I was falling in love with you, I ended it, and I haven't so much as spoken to him since, I promise."

Will's expression is blank. Mackenzie wishes she could see something in his eyes, even anger, but he just stares at his empty glass, allowing the seconds to tick by. Mackenzie starts to feel deafened by the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Will finally works up the power to speak. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long were you fucking Brian behind my back?"

"About four months. Will, it was never anything but about power. I felt like for the first time in my life with Brian, I had the upper hand. It was like an addiction for a while. I felt awful about it, but when I realised how much I was falling in love with you, I knew I couldn't keep seeing him, and that's when I started talking to CNN about coming down to DC. I thought because we weren't, you know, official, that it didn't count. But then we started talking about a future, about moving in together, and I knew I couldn't not tell you. My conscience wouldn't allow it."

Will leans his head against the back of the sofa and looks at the ceiling.

"Will, say something. Please," Mackenzie pleads.

Will says nothing and doesn't move. Seconds tick by; there's that deafening tick again, Mackenzie thinks.

Finally he brings his head forward again. He lifts eyes to meet Mackenzie's. In an eerily calm tone, he speaks. "I'm going to the kitchen, pouring myself a Scotch, and going on the balcony for a cigarette. I want you gone by the time I get back."

Mackenzie, desperately, starts to speak in a high pitch. "Will, no, we need to talk, we have..."

Will cuts her off, still with his deep, calm voice, "You heard what I said. You have five minutes."

Mackenzie sees her defeat, and starts to over compensate with a ferocious nodding of her head. She gets up from her seat. "Right, yes, of course, you need space," she walks over to grab her bag, continuing to speak as she goes. "You need time to process, we can..." she turns around to Will to finish, only to see his back as it goes through the door. Slumping her shoulders in defeat, and knowing better than to follow him, she grabs her coat and makes for the door, tears streaming down her face as she goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Mackenzie tells Sloan she and Will had been dating a year, but that is not a square I can circle so I changed it and I apologise if this annoys anyone. :-/


	5. Take the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mackenzie's told Will about Brian, so where to from here?

After a sleepless night, Mackenzie's restlessness gets the better of her and she heads to the office early. She figures at least if she can focus on work for a while she'll be able to get herself together for when Will arrives, not to mention the team, who will surely notice something is amiss.

She's surprised 30 minutes later to find her boss in front of her desk. "Do you know how long Will has worked for me?" Jonathan asks, and not in the calmest way possible.

"Um, yes, he's been at CNN for three years. Three and a half, I guess. Why do you ask?" 

"And did you know that in three and a half years, not once has Will called in sick?" Jonathan's irritation is spilling into his voice noticeably now. It rises as he adds, eyes firmly locked on Mackenzie, "Until today!"

Mackenzie does everything she can to maintain a neutral expression, despite he immediate sink in her stomach. "I didn't know that, no. But people get sick Jonathan. Will is allowed to get ill, he's not a robot."

Jonathan rolls his eyes at Mackenzie, and puts his hands on his hips. "He's no sicker than you are. I didn't come down in the last shower. When I gave you this gig, got you a job in DC, put you in the same newsroom as Will, you promised me - both of you - that your personal relationship wouldn't get in the way of your work. I've let slide the bickering and your slanging matches as rundown meetings, but you and Will had better get your shit together because I know, with absolute certainty, that Will's phone call this morning was about you and not a migraine." Jonathan flings his arms out to his sides. "Will doesn't suffer from migraines!" He glares at Mackenzie and considers continuing his monologue, but he sees tears welling up in her eyes and thinks better of it. He also doesn't, however, want to deal with any emotions from any of his employees, ever, so turns on his heel and leaves her office without another word. He pulls out his BlackBerry to type an email to Anna -

Anna

Please check in with Mackenzie as soon as you arrive.

Will is out today, I'm finding you an anchor.

Jonathan

 

Anna is walking across the parking lot as she gets the email, and quickens her pace a little as she reads it. As soon as she walks into the building, she makes a beeline for Mackenzie's office, who she finds with her back to her desk, leaning forward. It takes a few seconds for Anna to register the sound of Mackenzie's muffled sobs. It seems pretty clear that she hasn't noticed Anna's arrival.

"Mac?" Anna asks gently. "Mac, you alright? You wanna talk?"

Mackenzie shakes her head slowly but makes no effort to turn around and face Anna. She starts sniffing, clearly trying to stifle any more crying. Anna stays firmly lodged to the other side of the desk, determined not to impose herself too much on her boss. Other than to stand in silence, Anna isn't really sure what to do so the scene continues to play out for a minute or two before Anna decides she has to say or do something. "Coffee. Mac, shall we go grab a coffee? Yeah, let's head out for a little while, I think that's a good idea. Craig can hold the fort here." Anna finds herself holding open the door for Mackenzie, who is still facing away, and quickly feels a little silly for so doing. "Mackenzie, let's go. You're hardly in a position to lead the rundown, better to be out of the building for it than hiding in your office and drawing questions and raised eyebrows from the staff. Up and at 'em McHale, let's go, let's go, let's go."

Mackenzie knows that leaving the newsroom is her only option and slowly stands up. Wordlessly, she grabs her bag and phone and walks past Anna to the elevator lobby.

* * * * *

Coffee begins painfully, with Anna staring at Mackenzie, and Mackenzie staring determinedly at her coffee. Anna asks Mac if she wants to talk every so often, and Mackenzie gives one shake of the head before continuing to sob quietly.

Anna, with all her patience and kindness and concern, allows this to go on for about ten minutes before going into mom mode. "Mackenzie, we have a newsroom to get back to and a programme to put together that has to go on national cable television in about eight hours. None of that is going to happen if we have to sit here all day and I have to watch you stare at your coffee. So, unless you think you're about to stop crying and pull yourself together enough to run that newsroom, you're going to have to start speaking."

Mackenzie finally looks up at Anna, eyes red and puffy. "I don't want to talk about it," Mackenzie's voice is almost monotonous as she speaks. "Actually, strike that. I can't talk about it. I physically cannot bring myself to say the words that will describe the reason I'm crying. I'm sorry, I can't. Needless to say, it involves Will, who asked me to leave his apartment last night and who now won't answer my calls or texts," Mackenzie's speech speeds up as she speaks for fear that she'll burst into tears again before she finishes.

Anna, who has never been one to pry, puts her hand on Mackenzie's arm. She wants to tell her everything will be OK but it's patronising and presumptuous given she knows nothing of the situation. Mackenzie looks back down at her coffee and a muffled sob follows. "OK," Anna says calmly and with a slightly too upbeat tone. "Here's what's gonna happen. I'm gonna go back in, keep an eye on things, try and find out who's anchoring the show tonight, just like I do when you and Will go on vacation. To the staff, it'll feel just like that, you know, a regular day at the office when Will and Mac are out. Easy. You are gonna have to go home, Mac. You can't do this today,"

"No, Anna, I can't, I have to run my show. What about Jonathan?"

"I've worked with that asshole for ten years, you leave him to me. Go home." Anna gives a little smile as she adds, "That's an order!"

Mackenzie nods her acquiescence, knowing at the back of her mind that she'd be useless to everyone anyway. She was already planning not to be in the control room for the show but Anna's given her the permission she needs to take the day. She doesn't know what's happening with Will, and she knows she somehow has to get hold of him, to explain, to get him to understand that her indiscretion is ancient history, and to put together their lives again. "Thanks Anna," she says simply, and with that she grabs her bag and heads to her car.

Her need to see Will overwhelms her, and she finds herself pulling up at his building, calling his phone for the thirtieth time today as she gets out of her car. No answer, voicemail: "Will it's me again. Please, we have to talk. I love you Billy and I need to speak to you. Please, call me back." She hangs up and goes for the buzzer before stopping herself. Buzzing the building and being told over the intercom to go away is too humiliating. She loiters instead, hoping someone will come or go soon enough.

Ten torturous minutes pass, and somebody finally leaves Will's building. Luckily an old lady on Will's floor that she's bumped into a few times already. Mackenzie smiles her most disarming smile. "Hello there! He must be in the balcony, you don't mind if I come in do you?"

"Not at all dear, lovely to see you again. You have a good day now!" The old lady smiles at her as the cross in the doorway.

"You too, bye!" 

Mackenzie's relief at getting into the building is quickly replaced by terror at what's going to face her at Will's door. She calls the elevator, and feels her palms have become clammy as she does so. When she arrives at Will's floor she tip toes over to his door, silently cursing her heels. She stands in front of it, sighs deeply, allowing her shoulders to rise and fall as she does so, and knocks twice with far more confidence than she feels.

A few slow seconds pass before an unshaven Will, wearing sweatpants and a beaten Nebraska t-shirt opens the door. Mackenzie instantly registers his red eyes, but she can't tell if it's from crying or lack of sleep.

"Mackenzie, why are you here? I think I made myself pretty clear last night. Go. I'll make arrangements for your things to be sent back to your apartment."

Will attempts to be stoic, but his eyes betray his utter sadness. Mackenzie, whose sight is blurred by the tears in her eyes, just hears the anger in his voice. 

"Billy, no, we have to talk," she sniffs, "You have to talk to me about this. I love you, I'm IN love with you," (another sniff), "Please can we just go inside and discuss this, there's nobody else, I want to be with you."

"You have been lying to me for almost our entire relationship. You betrayed me. You made me think I was the centre of your world and you were sleeping with Brian fucking Brenner behind my back. Once? No, not once. Twice? Not twice either, no, no. For four months - four MONTHS - you lied, you cheated and you said nothing. Two years I've spent with you, in love with you, building a life with you, planning a future with you and you said nothing. You just let me be the fool and you must have gotten some kind of enjoyment out of it otherwise I can't think why you would do this to a person you claim to love. It doesn't seem to me that's what people do to the person they love." Will speaks with a bite to his tone and manages somehow to keep his eyes locked firmly on Mackenzie even as her weeping becomes ever louder sobs.

"I've called Charlie Skinner, I'm flying up to New York this afternoon to speak to him about whether there might be something for me at ACN. I'll stay up there until the weekend. As far as our seeing each other at work, I'm under contract so I can't just walk out. You, however, can move show, move studio. I suggest you do it. I understand we'll still have to work together for a little while but I want that while to be as short as possible because the sooner you're out of my life, the better."

Will's adrenaline rush comes to an abrupt end as he speaks, and he manages a terse 'goodbye' before closing the door on a crying Mackenzie. As he walks through his apartment to his kitchen for a large Scotch, the recollection of her face before him chokes him up.

By the time he gets to his balcony, tears have started trickling down his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan - Richard Schiff


	6. What Brings You to New York?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will meets with Charlie Skinner...
> 
> Thanks for all your kind words of encouragement, I have read all the comments - and I really appreciate them all. I am still on holiday (home tomorrow) so a bit tricky to reply to them all but hopefully you feel that I've done right by these characters and by Sorkin himself.

Will enters Charlie's office after Millie's wave in.

"William Duncan McAvoy, as I live and breathe! Good to see you, son, how have you been?" Charlie's greeting is nothing if not enthusiastic. He's already pouring two glasses of his finest bourbon. (Will's more of a Scotch man, but he knows Charlie prefers the Kentucky liquor.)

"Good to see you Charlie, how have you been?" Will's surprised by his own feigned enthusiasm, but decides quickly to roll with it.

"What can I say? All quiet on the Western front. I have to say upfront though, I was surprised to get your call. I thought you were pretty settled in DC with CNN and that EP come girlfriend of yours. I hear only good things about that woman, you know." 

Charlie's cheer and smile make Will's front of happiness ever harder to maintain. He has no interest, however, in discussing the shit show of his personal life any more than he absolutely has to, and becomes more resolute in his desire to appear chipper and upbeat.

"Well, you know how I've had it in the back of my mind to get back to New York. I like DC, but I moved here when I was 19, it's my home," Will says overly enthusiastically. He decides immediately that he wants to deal with the Mackenzie conversation as quickly as possible and so adds, "And, truth be told, things haven't worked out with Mackenzie. Too much of business mixing with pleasure, we decided to go our separate ways." Will mostly succeeds in hiding his amazement at having been able to spin a care free yarn on his shattered heart. "So, well, I thought about what you said when I was last up here and thought I'd give you a call. That leads us up to now, with me sitting in your office enjoying this bourbon." Will raises his glass in gesture.

"William, I am sorry to hear you and Mackenzie didn't work out, I really thought you'd found your gal the way you spoke about her. I understand the pressure, though, of working together and sharing a personal life. Are you alright?" Charlie peers quizzically at Will.

"I'm sad, of course, it's sad when a relationship doesn't work out, but sometimes things aren't meant to be." Will shrugs his shoulders. "Anyway, we're not here to discuss my bachelor lifestyle, we're here to talk business. In that vain, can I assume there was a specific reason you agreed to have me come up here and meet with you?"

"Will, Will, Will, there's plenty of time to talk business. We're friends! I've known you a long time, where did social grace go?" Charlie is sincere but keeps his tone light. "Lets shoot the breeze a little while and go over to the Hyatt for drinks, we can talk business there. I'd rather not be in the building with you any longer than I have to - don't want to arouse suspicion, you know?" Charlie leans forward and whispers almost comedically for his last sentence. "So, CNN, how goes it at the Democratic Party's very own Pravda?"

"Now Charlie, don't fall in the Fox News hole about CNN, you know as well as I do that if they weren't interested in producing the news they'd never have hired me."

"Now that, my boy, is where you're wrong. Hiring a former Bush speechwriter simply ticks a box and allows them to carry on as they were. Don't get me wrong, CNN has its strengths, but we in almost the last year of Bush Junior's administration, and the coverage CNN is giving to the Democratic Primary race outstrips by a long shot the Republican race."

"Charlie, you're not seriously suggesting that's out of anything other than the fact that Hillary Clinton's path to nomination already looks like it might be usurped by a first term Senator from Illinois who, to add to the equation, is also African American whilst the Republican Party has a bunch of old white guys duking it out and we already know it'll be McCain and if it's not McCain it'll be Giuliani and honestly, where's the excitement in covering that?" Will is exasperated, since he thinks his point was pretty obvious and he's a Republican - and he already knows he'll vote for McCain (he's met Giuliani a few times and he's worried Rudy is a kook) but he also knows as a journalist that it's not an interesting story.

Charlie chooses not to rise to the bait and get into a pissing contest, so asks simply, "And what do you make of Senator Obama?"

"Good orator, naive though. Think he's got all talk and no action. But he's galvanising a movement so I wouldn't be surprised if he goes all the way. I also, however, won't be surprised if he comes a little unstuck when he realises that governing isn't about giving rousing speeches about hope and change." Will thinks it's a fair assessment, and one he's alluded to in his show (To Mackenzie's chagrin, since she wants to focus more on Obama's hope message and the impact on African-Americans' projected turnout. "Will, look what this will do, this will change the American electorate, it will re-shape American politics. African-Americans are engaged in the political process like never before! This is a game changer!")

"I'll agree with you he has something to learn about pragmatism, but don't under estimate what can be done in four years. He'll learn, and if we uptick economically during his term, he might surprise you. He seems smart enough to surround himself with the right people."

Will leans forward and speaks earnestly. "He will learn? He'll surround himself with the right people? Charlie, the primaries haven't even begun and Hillary is the shoe in favourite. Are you trying to suggest the nomination is his already? When not a single vote is cast and nobody outside the big cities even knows his name?"

Charlie smiles his innocent but all knowing smile, shrugs his shoulders and replies, "Now Will, I can't predict the future any more than you, but I'd be careful with your assumption that only us urbanistas know his name. You might be surprised yet!" Charlie winks at him and takes his last gulp of bourbon. "Now, finish up - now we talk business!"

* * * * *

Will and Charlie settle in their seats and order their drinks.

"So, let's cut to the chase. I came to New York because when we spoke at the beginning of summer you said if I wanted to come back to ACN you might be able to work something out for me. I'm ready to come back Charlie - I've proved myself in prime time, and I like CNN but you knew when I left that it was a needs must. I had been weekend anchoring for over two years and needed to flex my muscles. I've done that, and surely you can agree that what I've done over at CNN in the six o'clock hour gives me the experience and profile to bring something to the table as far as Leona Lansing is concerned."

Charlie furrows his brow at Will and allows a few seconds to pass. "You know, considering the last time I mentioned the possibility of returning to ACN you pretty much laughed me off and went off back to DC, that was quite a sales pitch you just gave." Charlie pauses as the waiter sets their drinks on the table. "Why the sudden interest? And I want the truth now, Will."

Will becomes frustrated, he doesn't want to explain anything. He's given his pitch and he knows Charlie would have him back at ACN, he's not sure what any explanation has to do with it. He takes a sip of his drink to try and mask his irritation. "Charlie, I've already told you, I want to come back to New York. CNN doesn't want me to leave DC, or if they do it's to go to Atlanta. They're already on edge about how many anchors are based up here when head quarters are in Georgia. Plus, you know, the news show I want to do is somewhat compromised by the tightrope I'm forced to walk between hard news and tripe to keep the network heads happy. Yes, it hasn't worked out with Mackenzie, yes I acknowledge I'd prefer not to work with my now former girlfriend but primarily, I want to be in prime time doing the show I've always wanted to do. Now do you want to help me or not?"

Charlie's concern is suppressed before he replies. "Will, son, I want you back at ACN and yes, when I mentioned to you in May that we might be able to work something out I meant it. We're shuffling our line up: Isaac Klein's decided to retire. That leaves nine pm free, which means Terry Smith is moving in to that hour, because we want to have a national and international focus to the eight PM hour rather than Capitol Hill," Charlie leans back in his chair and takes a sip of bourbon. "So, we're essentially doing a re-launch of our prime time line up. You want to front a news show at eight pm? It's yours, so long as we can find enough change down the back of the sofa to buy you out of your contract. We'll have to speak to CNN about how much it will cost, and you'll have to discuss between your agent and our business affairs team what the terms are of any contract but if you're in, then we are good to go. I'd want you in place by mid October, latest, to give you a solid run in to November sweeps."

Will smiles at Charlie's proposal. "Charlie Skinner, as ever making everything seem so simple. I'm in, so let's start the negotiations. I'm in town the rest of the week so I'll ask Scott to get in touch with ACN's business affairs team and start putting together paperwork. I only have six months left on my CNN contract, so if Leona Lansing can sacrifice one dinner party, that should take care of my buy out." Will's relief at Charlie being true to his word is almost palpable. He raises his glass and gestures a toast. "To a reunion of the likeminded?"

"Hey, hey, McAvoy, I may be old, but I'll never be quite as addled as somebody who voluntarily worked for President Bush - father or son!" Charlie responds cheekily. He does, however, lift his glass and chink it against Will's. "To the news!" He exclaims as he pours his remaining bourbon into his mouth.

Charlie immediately signals to the waiter for another round, and Will almost manages to conceal the sadness in his smile.


	7. London Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mackenzie flees to London.
> 
> Also, you know what I've decided? I've decided that when Will tells Mackenzie that he didn't read her emails or listen to her voicemails, etc, that he is flat out lying. He listened to every single one and he read every single one and he kept every single one and the reason I think that is that this is a guy who specialises in pretending that he's completely nonchalant about everything, in particular Mackenzie but it's all a massive front and you look at his face all these times when he's just had an argument at her or he's just vented some frustration at her and his gaze is like somebody who is completely lost in love and who is aware of that fact entirely. I think with the emails, etc that he wants to hurt her and that's why he says it, but when he's alone his curiosity gets the better of him and he takes in all of her communiques. He also cannot quit her, and when she's physically gone, his only connection to her is the receipt of an email or voicemail.
> 
> I don't know what other people think, but that's my view and that has kind of slightly been factored into my narrative.

Will's lying on his hotel bed when he hears his phone beep. He lifts it up and sees it's from Mackenzie:

_I'm going to London on Saturday for a week. You'll have Anna EPing when you get back from New York. Thought it'd be best to give you some space. Let me know when you're ready to talk. I love you. M xx_

After shutting off his emotions for the past few days, something surges inside of him and he summons all of his strength to throw his phone at the wall. He sits up and looks over at it, resigned, a little surprised at his momentary outburst, and mainly numb. He sits staring at the phone for several minutes, and finally decides he wants to be more numb, and so pours himself another Scotch. He calls Scott from the hotel phone and arranges for a new Blackberry to be delivered to him. Negotiations with CNN and ACN have happened quickly, and he knows he should be excited at the prospect of prime time and a move to New York, but he feels nothing. He wonders how long it will take him to get used to the empty feeling inside and takes another gulp of Scotch to try and numb that thought, too. Charlie had asked him to go and get dinner, but he hasn't eaten for four days and doesn't think he's going to start today. He functions on a diet of coffee, cigarettes and Scotch, and that suits him just fine.

* * * * *

Mackenzie comes through to the arrivals at Heathrow and is relieved to find her brother there to pick her up.

"Tom, thank god! It's so good to see you," Mackenzie exclaims as she gives him a hug.

"Good to see you too, Kenz. You look like shit, though - what's going on? Why the sudden urgency to come home?"

Mackenzie playfully but lamely taps him on the chest. "Really kind of you, darling brother. Don't see you for four months and that's my greeting? I just really needed to spend time with family and I needed to get away from DC. Come on, you can take me for a coffee and I'll catch you up."

"Absolutely, let's go."

They drive back towards Tom's house, Mackenzie filling the time with idle chit chat until Tom asks her, "And how's Will? You've not mentioned him." Mackenzie's head snaps round to look at Tom and she glares at him, wide eyed before almost immediately bursting into tears. Tom, who is hurtling down the M4, swerves a little in surprise. "Oh, bugger, OK, sorry, right, yeah, oh god, I didn't know. I mean, I assume something has happened. God, oh god, why the fuck didn't I bring Sheila with me, I'm useless at this. Right, um, well, Mackenzie I'm really sorry for whatever has happened but come on, let's skip the coffee and I'll take you home. Mum and Dad are arriving soon and Sheila's there with Oscar and George, that will be nice, won't it? To see your nephews? They're really excited to see you." Tom is well aware that he is rambling but he's really as terrible at the supportive and comforting conversation as he says he is and has no idea what else to do. "And a pot of tea will be waiting, knowing Mum, and isn't that actually better than a coffee? Because you can't get a good cup of tea in DC, I don't care what you say. Then this afternoon we can go for a walk, we can go up to the Wetlands or over to Richmond Park, it'll be really nice - get some fresh air, get the blood pumping, yeah it'll be great. And this evening, we've got a table booked at Sonny's and I know how much you love it there so it's gonna be absolutely fine, Mackenzie, we're going to have a really nice day and then whatever it is that's causing all these tears now won't seem so bad."

Mackenzie allows herself a small chuckle at Tom's rather sweet attempt to comfort her with the description of his plans for the day and her sobs quieten a little. 

They arrive at Tom and Sheila's house and Mackenzie is immediately comforted by the sound of her nephews running around in the kitchen, accompanied by the calm chatter between her parents and sister in law. Sheila rises from the table as Mac and Tom enter the room and immediately pulls her into an embrace. "Mac, hi, welcome!"

"Hi Sheila, thanks for putting me up at such short notice."

"Oh goodness, don't be silly, it was a lovely surprise when you called."

Mackenzie's mother interjects to the conversation. "Do we get a hello, darling? I know we're just your fuddy duddy parents but we're also rather pleased to see you."

Mackenzie smiles and leans in to kiss her mother on the cheek. "Hi mum, good to see you. Have I ruined your plans by showing up?"

Before Felicity has a chance to respond, her father interrupts. "Mackenzie, don't be so bloody ridiculous, of course you haven't. The more the merrier, and all that. It's not as though we have you in England all the time, so whenever you decide to visit or can get the time to visit is absolutely fine with us. Welcome home, my dear."

"Cup of tea?" Felicity asks Mackenzie as she takes a seat at the large dining table. Mackenzie knows her face is so red and blotchy that the fact she's been crying is plain for all to see and, not for the first time, she's grateful for her parents' Englishness and their lack of pushiness.

"Would love one, thanks. Long flight, you know how it is."

Felicity prepares her a cup and passes it over. She watches as Mac slowly takes a sip before asking, "So, my second born - what's new with you? How's Will?"

Tears prick in the back of Mackenzie's eyes immediately, but she manages to stifle the crying. "Well, um, Will and I have actually broken up. Full disclosure, that's sort of the reason I came out here so suddenly. I really don't want to talk about it, so please don't ask me any questions, but you should know that he's done absolutely nothing wrong, and it's all me and yes I'm heartbroken but I'll be fine, I just needed to get away. Turns out working with an ex boyfriend doesn't work so well. I'm speaking to some people about moving job within CNN, which yes means I might have to leave DC but at this point, I don't think that's a bad thing. I could probably do with a fresh start. Anyway, yes, so that's that. Thanks for the tea, Mum."

Sheila, who is sitting next to Mackenzie, puts a comforting arm around her as Felicity strokes her arm. Mackenzie's dad simply looks at her for a few seconds before clearing his throat. "Mackenzie, that's very sad to hear, I'm sorry that things haven't worked out with Will. I liked the man well enough, and he seemed to make you happy, but you're a strong woman, and you'll pull yourself up by the boot straps, and you'll recover." 

Mackenzie, Felicity and Sheila all stare at Anthony in surprise. "What?" He asks innocently.

"Nothing at all," Felicity replies, "It's just unlike you to make that kind of pronouncement in the face of emotional turmoil from any of your children. You used to hide behind the paper when they'd get upset over a grazed knee."

"Yes but that's because I didn't have that way you had of comforting them in their pain, whereas this I felt I could give some valuable input on." Anthony replies. 

Mackenzie and Sheila's eyebrows remain raised in surprise but Mackenzie has gathered herself enough to reply. "Thanks dad, that means a lot. I'm sure what you said is also true, but right now it's difficult to believe. Anyway, I'm not here to bring you all down, I'm here so you can cheer me up!"

* * * * *

Mackenzie's day with her family succeeds in cheering her spirits, and shortly after returning from their walk, she absents herself ostensibly for a lie down and a nap before dinner. She's in Oscar's room whilst he bunks in with his brother - the compromise of showing up when her parents are already staying. She makes to lie down on the bed and smiles and shakes her head a little as she thinks of the poetic perfection of sleeping in a single bed surrounded by dinosaur decorations whilst she mourns the loss of her relationship. Unable to resist, Mackenzie picks up her Blackberry and calls Will. It rings out to voicemail. "Hi, it's me. Huh, again. I got to London fine, I'm at Tom's. Sleeping in Oscar's room because my parents are here. I told them what's happened between us. Don't worry, I made it very clear that it's all my fault and Will, I know it is, but I really need to talk to you about this. I love you so much, and I want more than anything to be with you, to have our life back. I know I've hurt you, but please, if you'll just call, I am absolutely certain we can work this out. I don't think you're like this Will. I don't think you're the kind of person to throw away what's really good because of a mistake I made long ago, before we were even seriously together. So please, please, just... please call me. Any time, I'll have my phone on day and night. I love you."

She ends the call feeling as dejected as ever but continues to stare at it, hoping against hope that Will's number will flash up at any moment. She knows it's a futile exercise, but she doesn't know what else to do. She continues to hold the phone as her eyes drift closed and she falls asleep. She dreams of Will.

* * * * *

Will calls his voicemail service as soon as the message alert comes through. He listens to her voicemail but sniffs back his tears as he does so. When it finishes, he listens to it again. Then again. At each listen, he feels his resolve strengthen, and he manages to build up his anger again. Eventually he hits the red button, steeled for another few hours. He walks out to his balcony, joint in one hand, Scotch in the other. Fuck her, he thinks. He lights the joint and lays back on the lounger. He contemplates messaging her to tell her not to call him anymore and to stop sending the emails but it would break his resolve not to contact her. He ignores the small voice inside that says it's because he doesn't want her to stop calling and emailing.

Tomorrow he'll go into the studio and Anna will be his EP. When people ask him where Mac is, he'll be able to say she's visiting family. He hopes that the contract negotiations are tied up by the end of the week and he can be gone from CNN, gone from DC, before she gets back. Things were looking good but CNN have decided to be difficult about the payout on his contract. He's been able to vent his frustration about that to Scott and Charlie Skinner and even Jonathan and release his anger without having to discuss the M word. He knows they can't keep taking it in turns to be out, but he dreads seeing her again.

* * * * *

Mackenzie's week with her family passes too quickly, and by the end of it her spirits have lifted so much that her emails to Will have reduced to three a day. Still no answer, but she hasn't given up hope. She'll see him on Monday at work and whilst she doesn't think that he'll have her run into his arms and reconcile there and then, she does think their seeing each other might help him remember that he does love her and he does want to be with her. Despite everything, she hasn't doubted for a moment that he still loves her, and the romantic in her refuses to believe that love isn't enough. She laments her stupidity with Brian, but she is far more focused on fixing what's broken between her and Will.

When she arrives in the office on Monday morning, early, the butterflies in her stomach don't stop and adrenaline buzzes through her to the point that she struggles to stay seated for long. Anna's arrival into her office is a blessed relief.

"Mac, morning - how was London?" Anna asks neutrally.

"Yeah, it was great thanks. Nice to spend time with my family, take my mind off, you know, things."

"Sure, great, glad you enjoyed. Hey, I hate to do this to you but I'm actually not in here for a chit chat. I have to ask you something, which is incredibly awkward for me, not least because you're my boss but I have, you know," (She waves a finger in the air), "Higher ups to whom I have to answer. Will has requested that I run the control room tonight."

Mackenzie's jaw drops as she feels her stomach sink. She stays silent whilst she gathers herself. "Right, of course, yes, absolutely, understood. I mean, understandable. Yes, that's totally right. That, well, you know... that you run the control room. That you give Will his cues. And I'll, um, I'll... well, I'll just, you know be there behind you in case you need anything. Not that you will, obviously, you absolutely know what you're doing, you can run this show with your eyes closed. Maybe I'll stay in my office. Watch from here. It'll be good for me to, you know, watch objectively, and, um, well, assess the show as a viewer. Always good to do that. It gets unhealthy to stay too involved and not take opportunities to, you know, step back and look in."

Rambling - a McHale family attribute.

Anna smiles kindly, clutching her file to her chest. She glances down at the floor, a little unsure of what to say, before replying. "Now that sounds like a great idea, Mackenzie. I'll do my best to keep him in check and the show up to your exceptionally high standards."

Mackenzie manages nothing more than a half smile, so Anna continues, "I'll catch you at the rundown meeting," and leaves the room.

Perplexed, though deep down not surprised, Mackenzie begins pacing her office, clenching her fists as she fights back her tears. She happens to catch Will out of the corner of her eye, making his way across the bull pen to his office. Torn between the desire to burst into his office and either confront him over his request or try and beg for forgiveness face to face, she decides escaping is her only course of action. Grabbing her wallet, she sweeps out of the office on the hunt for coffee.

Across the newsroom, over the top of the Washington Post, Will recognises her anxious body language as she heads towards the elevator lobby. Swallowing the lump in his throat that forms, he focuses intently on the article in front of him, trying to make out the words as his eyes water.

* * * * *

Mackenzie enters the conference room for the first rundown meeting five minutes late, and is a little surprised to find Will hasn't yet arrived. She glances at Craig. "Craig, do you mind tracking down Will and reminding him the meeting starts now."

There's an awkward pause as Craig looks up at Mackenzie but makes no move to get up. The producers in the room start shuffling papers and focusing intently on their phones. Craig darts his eyes over to Anna momentarily before moving back to look sheepishly at Mackenzie. He is rescued by Anna, who interjects. "Actually, sorry Mac I meant to say, Will had some kind of appointment this morning so he won't be in the meeting. I guess that means we can start?"

Mackenzie is ruffled, not for the first time today, but takes a deep breath before beginning. "Right, what have we got. Craig, do you want to start?"

At that moment, she sees Will make his way across the newsroom towards his office, coffee cup in hand. Overwhelmed with emotion, and unable to face the prospect of days and weeks like this, she asks Anna to take over the meeting and whirls out of the room, marching towards Will's office.

"Are you trying to fuck me over in my professional life as well as my personal life?" she asks as she storms in.

He looks up, contemptuous in his expression. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" His tone is flat, his voice quiet.

"How can you think to ask me that? Don't you see what this is doing to me? Don't the number of calls I've made, the number of text messages I've sent, the number of emails I've written show enough how much I want to fix this?"

"Oh Mackenzie, you must think me a fool. There aren't enough voicemail messages, aren't enough emails, aren't enough text messages that could fix what you broke. We're done, and that's all there is to it. You'll run your newsroom, Anna will run my show, and that's how it will be until I can find a way out of this place. Now go back to the conference room, I've got newspapers to read. I'm sure one of the staff will come in and update me on where we're at with the rundown after the meeting." He leans forward, picks up a cigarette and places it into his mouth. He glances back up at Mackenzie, who is rooted to her spot. He lights the cigarette, takes a drag, and when it becomes clear that Mackenzie isn't headed out the door, he adds, "I'd ask if there was anything else but I can say with absolute certainty that there isn't."

With these biting words, Mackenzie is shaken out of her stupor. She becomes almost trance like as she turns on her heel and leaves the office. In something akin to a state of shock, she finds herself heading to Jonathan's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you want to know who I picture in these roles... partly for some mild amusement...
> 
> Mackenzie's mum: Felicity Kendal  
> Mackenzie's dad: Peter Bowles  
> Tom McHale: Robert Webb  
> Sheila McHale: Sarah Lancashire
> 
> Also just for random reference - the area that Tom lives in is Barnes, which is in South West London. It's a very leafy and charming part of the city that tags itself as a village in London.


	8. Run Your Newsroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like, since this is in canon, and Will's made his feelings quite clear, and we're hurtling towards the end of August 2007, y'all know where this is going.
> 
> I want to take this moment to say a HUGE thank you for all the lovely comments and words of encouragement I've received. It's been so enjoyable to write again (I haven't for years) and to have people so receptive to my take on how the break up went down. As I've said before (and actually it's clear, we're all in this together!), Sorkin's gaps and inconsistencies were frustrating, so it's been fun to try and iron out some of them.
> 
> Also because I am deep, dark cynic, the angst has been kinda fun, I"m sorry to say!
> 
> And with that, onward... to more angst.

Jonathan is deep in some kind of paperwork when Mackenzie enters his office, almost bordering on hysterical by this time, with twitchy body language, unable to stand still, and some kind of unidentifiable sound escaping from her mouth whilst she takes quick, shallow breaths. This immediately sets him on edge, since he is not able generally to cope with even the merest hint of emotion from people around him. When she left him, his wife said his emotional immaturity was one of the reasons.

"Mac, I swear to God, this had better be a work related visit. I've made my feelings pretty clear about your personal life getting in the way of my professional life," he says, calmly but dismissively.

Mackenzie waits a few months and tries to catch her breath, conscious of the ache in her chest from the strain on her lungs.

"Yes, it absolutely is about work, of course. I wouldn't think to come to you about anything but work." (She's a little surprised by the sarcasm in her voice, despite everything.) "Whilst I was away I spoke to some people in Atlanta and I hear that Don Lemon is about to be rudderless, so to speak; that he's about to be without an EP. So, well, it's an opportunity for me and I wanted to ask if you'd speak to the team down there and see if you could put in a good word. I think it's a great opportunity for me, you know, Don is a great journalist, he's passionate, he's young, he's vibrant and I think we'd be a good fit. I've met him a few times and we've always gotten on well, so..."

Mackenzie stops as Jonathan slams down his papers onto his desk.

"Are you absolutely fucking crazy? Are you kidding me right now?" he shouts so vehemently he starts bubbling at the mouth. "You want to leave the 5pm hour in DC to head to Atlanta to front a show that nobody watches on the weekend? Did you honestly think you'd come in here, ask me, and I'd just say," (his tone becomes relaxed, but mockingly so) "Sure Mackenzie, no worries, give me 30 minutes, I'll make a call, what time flight do you want to be on to Hartsfeld-Jackson?"

Mackenzie is non-plussed, and doesn't respond. She simply looks at him, peers almost, as she shuffles anxiously from one foot to the other. Jonathan stands and puts both of his hands on his hips. "Whatever is going on down there, between you and WIll, fix it. I'm not compromising my programming because you can't run your lives. You're both under contract, and I'll let you go when that contract is up. Until then, I have a 5pm hour anchored by Will McAvoy, whose EP is and will remain Mackenzie McHale. You got that?"

"Jonathan, your point is moot. Yes, we're both under contract, but what you need to recognise is that your programming is already compromised. Will and I, as this morning has already made abundantly clear, can no longer work together. Anna's running the show tonight - which I assume you both know and signed off on - and Will didn't bother to show up to this morning's rundown meeting. You can lose your shit all you want, but the situation as it is has become untenable. Either I or Will have to go, and I think we both know it's far easier to release a press statement about an EP moving show than it is to announce the loss of an anchor." Mackenzie is surprised at her resolve, and the steeliness in her voice. "So, you say no, and that's a choice you have every right to make, but this show is going to be eroded if you don't let me go and find somebody else to take on _The Evening Report_. It really is as simple as that."

"Get back to your newsroom Mackenzie, and run your show. Your contract is up in six months."

With little option besides launching a full scale argument, which she knows would be completely counter productive to getting her way, she leaves Jonathan's office, being sure to slam his door behind her as she goes.

Jonathan sits back at his desk and picks up the phone. "Scott, hi, it's Jonathan."

"Ah, Jonathan, what can I do for you? Phoning to add another $100,000 to Will's contract pay out? ACN won't pay the ridiculous figure you've already put forward..."

"If you could stop being an asshole for a moment, which by the way somebody should tell you you are, and listened, you'd quickly find that I'm calling to say - off the record - that I'm going to make some calls here and see what I can do to get the pay out reduced. Will wants to go, ACN wants him, and I am too old and too disinterested in other people to make him stay and deal with the shit show going on between him and Mackenzie McHale. So go forth, make your calls to ACN, find out what they will actually pay for him, and hopefully we'll have a deal by the end of the week."

Scott can't hide his surprise as he replies, "I will do just that, I'm calling Charlie Skinner now. Gotta say Jonathan, it's a pleasant change to have somebody at CNN find some sense in their addled mind."

Unable to resist a parting shot, Jonathan simply exclaims, "Oh bite me," before hanging up.

He call his assistant and asks her to arrange for Will to come see him as soon as possible.

* * * * *

When Mackenzie returns to the bullpen, all seems calm and efficient. She decides to head to her office to be with her thoughts for a while, and catch up on some paperwork. Her confrontation with Jonathan seems to have powered her up a little, and for the first time in days she walks with her head up and a sense of her strength. Maybe this was what her father had meant.

She sits at her desk and powers up her computer. As soon as she loads up her email, she writes one to Will.

_Will -_

_Please note that this email comes from my work account to yours, and so I write this as your EP to her anchor._

_Rundown meetings are **not** an optional attendance thing, they are mandatory for **all** staff, including the anchor. We cannot expect to put our best foot forward in a difficult time slot, and air a news show that we can be proud of if you do not bother to show up to them._

_The next rundown is at noon, and I expect to see you there._

_Mackenzie_

Her finger hovers over the mouse for a few seconds before she hits send. As soon as she does so, and determined not to focus all her thoughts on whether Will might respond, she picks up a report Craig has left on her desk about increasing home foreclosures. She's surprised to hear an email alert and look up to see it's a response from Will.

_We can't expect to put our best foot forward when the EP screwed over the anchor, either._

She takes a sharp intake of breath at the cutting email she can hardly believe he's sent. A moment later, she catches him walking towards the elevator, shocked over again by his apparent equanimity.

* * * * *

Will casually swings open the door to Jonathan's office. "You wanted to see me? What's it about? Because yes I still want to go to ACN and yes I'm pissed that you're being so difficult about my contract buy out."

Jonathan raises an eyebrow at him, clearly a little perplexed that Will might think this tact will compel him give him what he wants. He responds, "Calm down Will, I'm seeing what I can do but it's not my call. You know, you'd be well advised to drop this awkward ass act. I know you can be a little difficult, but these past couple of weeks you've gone from being decent enough to be around - for somebody with an ego inflated by seeing themselves on television every day, and don't pretend you don't record your show every day, to unpleasant to be around. And that's coming from me! The most curmudgeonly bastard I've ever met! 

I've had this conversation with Mac already, but now I'm going to have it with you. I mean this from the bottom of my heart, so listen carefully: I don't give a shit what's going on or gone on between you and Mackenzie, I only care that one nanosecond of my day is spent dealing with what is going on in your newsroom. If I hear one more time that you're not showing up to a rundown meeting, I'm calling ACN and telling them your buy out increased by $1,000,000. Don't believe me? Well do it and see how serious I am. Now get out of here, and go run your newsroom like you have a modicum of professionalism about you."

Will, stunned, just stands rooted in the room. He brings his hands to his hips, half thinking his physicality might prompt Jonathan to walk back his threat. Instead, he watches as Jonathan acts as though he's left the room, and goes back to his paperwork, his chair pointedly swung so Jonathan's back is practically to Will.

After a few seconds, Will's arms drops to his sides, defeat washing over him. Dejectedly, he makes to leave.


	9. Midnight Train to Georgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eugh, I have to cut the rope.
> 
> Thank you all, once again, for your comments - I read them all and they definitely motivate me to keep going... even if this one has fallen by the wayside for a few days.

Mackenzie wakes up early, eyes sore from another evening spent sobbing. She picks up her BlackBerry and calls her parents' landline.

"Anthony McHale speaking," announces her father in his distinct tone. 

She's relieved it's her father - she needs advice and it's always the kind of thing she talks to her dad about rather than her mum. "Dad, hi, it's Mac," she replies, voice a little timid.

"Ah, hello my dear, and how are you? Did you call to speak to your mother?"

"No, actually, dad, I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you have some time?"

"For you? Absolutely? I was supposed to play golf but as is typical in our beloved mother country that it's pouring with rain, so it's just me and the paper. What can I do for you, Mac?"

Mackenzie worries her voice will tremble and focuses her effort on steadying it before she starts: "Well, in a nutshell, it's become very clear since I got back that Will and I can no longer work together, so I asked my boss about a transfer to Atlanta, but he outright said no. He said I can make a move when my contract is up but that's not for months and dad, I absolutely cannot stay there and see Will every day, it's killing me, and more importantly it's going to ruin the show, and my reputation if I'm not careful. I need to leave and have a fresh start; I only moved to DC to be with Will and now that we're not together it seems stupid to stay here. Anyway, my boss isn't usually the type to budge so I'm basically trapped, which is making a terrible situation even worse. Dad, I swear to god, when I got back I thought that Will and I would see each other and we'd talk, and we'd work it out. When I was in London and I was so upset about it, I hadn't even begun to register that it might be over for good, I was more sad and angry with myself for having upset Will."

"Mackenzie, I can try and advise you on how to handle the work situation, but I am not in a position to advise on Will. For a start, you haven't told any of us what's happened, and we're all a little perplexed, your mother in particular. You seemed so happy together, I actually thought this was the one, and having seen you flit around for 15 years since you graduated I thought my gut instinct was right about this one. Do you feel like you might want to explain to any of us what happened? I'm not pressuring you to tell me here and now, but you might feel better telling your mother or your sisters."

Ever the stoic Brit, Anthony is caring but pragmatic in his tone as well as his words, and Mackenzie manages to stay calm during the exchange. She barely replies to the suggestion that she confides in her family, uttering merely, "Perhaps, and I'll give it some thought, but the more pressing issue is convincing my boss to let me leave."

"Well, from what you've told me, this Jonathan chap doesn't seem too keen on emotional pleas, so I think your only choice really dear is to explain to him the logical argument; that you can't give your best in DC and that you don't want to see the erosion of what you and Will have worked so hard to build up. If you phrase it that it's in his best interests to let you go, I'm sure you'll find him more receptive than to any other explanation. Look, I'm sorry I can't be more help than this, but I know how men like Jonathan think, and they think logically and without emotion, as well as, dare I say it, of what will suit them best. This is a fellow who seems like he wants the easiest life possible, so it's for you to illustrate what will make his life easier."

"I promise you, I have already done just that. I've explained to him the flaw in trying to keep me here, in trying to get me to work with Will, the whole thing, and I have done it with facts and logic and as little emotion as possible."

"Then you'll have to try again, still without emotion, still with logic and facts. There's really very little else you can do, since you are, after all, under contract," her father responds, "Look, Mackenzie, I don't like to ask this but it's important I do; you're not going to compromise the show by leaving are you? You are confident that the team you work with can handle things when you go? I wouldn't want to think of you abdicating your responsibility to DC and the programme, nor to the people you have working for you, because you're going through a hard time personally."

"God, no, of course not! What do you think, that I'm too self absorbed to think of anyone else? No, not at all - the team will be just fine without me. The senior producer here has more experience than I do and she knows exactly what she's doing. Truth be told, I've always wondered why she didn't take an EP job herself, so no I am not abdicating my responsibility," Mac's voice is testy in her response.

"Alright, alright, you've made your point Mackenzie, I'm sorry I asked, but it would have been remiss of me not to. I just hope this is what you really want and that you won't regret it if Jonathan does give it to you," Anthony warns.

"Dad, no, I won't. This is the right thing for me to do. DC's been great, but it's time for me to go," Mackenzie's voice gains strength as she responds with relative conviction. "I'll speak to you soon; say hi to mum for me and love to you both."

She and her father exchange goodbyes, and Mackenzie wishes she felt better, but begins her morning rituals as dejected as ever. Somehow she had thought that her father would offer her some kind of magical solution. As she stands under a slightly too hot shower, she shakes her head at her own stupidity and tries to suppress the dread she feels at the prospect of another day in the office with Will.

* * * * *

Mackenzie doesn't get a chance to see Jonathan before the first rundown meeting, but is stunned to see Will walk in, expressionless, to the conference room and take his usual seat at the opposite end of the table. He immediately pulls out his Blackberry from his pocket and busies himself with it, even after Mackenzie calls the meeting to order. Through the course of the meeting, he says very little, and everything he does say seems to be with the sole intent of insulting some member of the staff or other. At no point does he speak directly to Mackenzie, nor to her knowledge even look at her. As the meeting ends and everyone goes to leave, her Blackberry buzzes.

_Orders from on high, don't think I wanted to be in there._

At this, Mackenzie's final iota of strength evaporates, and she decides extreme measures need to be taken. She thuds herself down at her desk and picks up her phone to make the call she promised herself she wouldn't make.

 

* * * * *

Mackenzie's email pings an hour later and it's from Jonathan. She's not surprised to read its contents.

_Mac -_

_Seems like you have some explaining to do. You'd better head up to my office as soon as possible, and by as soon as possible, I mean now._

_Jonathan_

She calmly rises and heads through the bull pen to the elevators. She takes deep, purposeful breaths as she makes her way to Jonathan's office, expecting him to unleash a fury at her. When she gets to him, he's oddly calm in his demeanor, but his tense jaw betray his fury and, she's surpised to see, his hurt.

"Mac, after everything we discussed yesterday, you went over my head? You called Atlanta, you gave them an ultimatum, you portrayed me as unreasonable jackass and because you're Mackenzie McHale, you got your wish. Did you do this as a kid? Huh? Your mom would give you an answer you didn't want to hear so you went to your dad? I really expected more of you, I expected that you would respect the realities of your professional situation, that you wouldn't go over my head like this, that you would respect that you signed a legally binding piece of paper called a 'contract' and that you wouldn't shit on me like this," Jonathan explains with an even tone. He leans his head back against his headrest and looks up slightly as he finishes, closing his eyes after a few seconds.

Mackenzie, who had stayed by the door during his monologue, moves closer towards him. "Jonathan, I'm so sorry, I didn't know what else to do. I have to go, and I have to go this week. Working with Will, it doesn't work. You, Will, the staff, the show, everything will be better with Anna at the helm and me gone. I promise you. I wish I didn't have to do it this way but I couldn't see another way out and I'm dying inside."

Jonathan scoffs a little. "Mac, how heartless do you think I am? Will's in contract negotiations with ACN, he's going to New York. You think I'd have made you stay indefinitely? I couldn't tell you - actually still can't, by the way - and I also didn't want to uproot the entire thing down there when Will's going soon enough. I pushed through his buyout, I knew one of you needed to go and I knew he had made the move with Leona Lansing's troop of lightweights so I was just buying time. Great tactic, I'm sure you'll agree. It's worked out fucking well for me, since I now don't have an EP or an anchor, which actually means I don't have a show."

Mackenzie looks down at her feet, even more sorry than she was before, as well as hurt anew. He went to New York the day after her revelation. She's shocked at the realisation that it had taken him a day to decide to move cities, to cut all ties with her, and she fights back the tears she feels well up in her eyes. She sniffs, swallows, takes a breath and looks back up at Jonathan, who looks at her sceptically, one eyebrow raised. "Maybe it's for the best, you know: fresh start for all of us. My last day here is Friday. You OK for me to tell the staff?" Jonathan does nothing but slightly nod his acquiescence. "And Jonathan, really, I really am sorry about this. Perhaps you think I should be stronger, and maybe I should, but I have to move on in every way possible." With nothing left to be said, Mackenzie makes to leave the office.

She returns to the newsroom intending to pull in Anna to explain the situation, but somehow it's gotten to noon and she heads straight to the newsroom. Will is in the conference room again, busy with his Blackberry, busy with anything that means he doesn't have to look at Mackenzie.

The rundown is a little fraught, with Hurricane Dean pulling them in different directions; it's hit land in the Gulf of Mexico but the clean up operation in the Caribbean has been slow to pick up. Mackenzie calms the din with an announcement: "However we approach this, I'm not having this show become about sob stories..." She distinctly hears Will scoff before she can continue. She stops in her tracks and glares at him. He's staring intently through the glass into the suddenly fascinating corridor.

Mackenzie clears her throat and lifts her chin a little. "OK team I actually think now's the time to let you know some news. This is my last week with you, as I'm transferring to Atlanta this weekend to take over Don Lemon's show. Obviously I'm sad to say goodbye to all of you but this is a new and exciting challenge for me. I'll be leaving you in Anna's more than capable hands for now until another Executive Producer can be found."

The staff are dumbfounded; they had been aware that something was not right, but Mackenzie's announcement is a bolt from the blue. Mackenzie doesn't know what else to say so a silence descends on the room until Will suddenly stands out of his chair, looks over at Mackenzie for a brief moment, and silently leaves the room.

"Anna, can you please take over, I'll be back in a minute," Mackenzie says as she makes to follow Will out of the room.

* * * * *

Mackenzie tries to keep up with Will but his pace is fast. It isn't until they get to the elevator lobby that she is able to catch up with him. "Will, where are you going?"

Will's voice is calm and detached as he responds, "It's none of your business, and it certainly isn't now, but I'm going out for a walk. I'll be back to write my script. Anna will run the control room. Do not follow me into this elevator car."

The doors open and Will walks in, hitting the lobby floor button more aggressively than necessary as he does so. He doesn't turn around, but he can feel Mackenzie watching him as the doors close. He waits a second for the elevator to start moving before, with all his might, he raises his fist and bangs against the doors. He scrunches his eyes closed to fight away the tears that have spiked in his eyes. As the elevator comes to a stop, he wipes his eyes with both of his hands simultaneously, rolls his shoulders back, and strides purposefully out of the building. Mackenzie running away, he thinks to himself, he shouldn't have expected anything less, so fuck Mackenzie McHale, he'll be better off with her out of his life, and in Georgia or wherever the fuck she's going. He's going to prime time in New York and that suits him just fine. These are the thoughts that roll around Will's mind for the entire hour he spends marching around the streets of DC before he goes back to the studio and shuts himself in his office.

Anna, meanwhile, is struggling with the shock of Mackenzie's news, not least because, as she tells Mackenzie, "I can't help but feel like you've kind of dropped me in it, you know."

"I know Anna, but you know I have to leave. I wanted to tell you before the rundown but I was longer with Jonathan than I intended and then Will was being so difficult, that it just sort of burst out."

"Mac, I get it. Well, actually I don't because my husband is an accountant and I've never spent one second of my life working with him but let's pretend I actually do get it. You only have a few days left, so I don't want to waste them lecturing you or chastising you. Let's just focus on putting out the best damn show we can, awkward asshole anchor or not."

* * * * *

Mackenzie's final few days in DC are as awkward as she anticipated, with Will back to refusing to attend rundown meetings, and Mackenzie struggling to get any kind of enthusiasm from a team who feel she's abandoning them. Hurricane Dean keeps the week's programme full enough, and by Friday, Mackenzie feels drained in every way possible. Anna had insisted that they have leaving drinks nearby, so at 6pm the staff start to make their way up the street. 

Anna heads to Will's office and pops her head in with her most disarming smile, "Will, you sure you don't want to come for one drink to say goodbye? She's moving inter-state, you don't think she deserves a chance to say goodbye to you?"

"Anna, if you know even the slightest little bit of what's happened between me and Mackenzie, you'll know that not only is the suggestion that I come for a drink a ridiculous one, but that I have already said all the goodbye I want to. I've no doubt she will try and see me before she goes anyhow, so I'll wait for that."

"How do you mean Will? She's on a flight from Dulles tonight. I thought you knew. She leaves in like 3 hours, so I don't think she'll be showing up at your apartment any time soon."

Will glares at Anna, surprised somehow that he didn't know Mac was leaving so soon and with the odd sense of realisation that she's really going. He feels foolish for apparently not realising before that she was really going, but says nothing. He swallows hard, a way to keep his emotions in check. "Well, then that saves us another awkward scene. Go, have a nice evening."

Will suddenly stands up. "Hang on a sec, Anna," he says as he reaches into his desk drawer. He pulls out his wallet and pulls out three crisp $100 bills from it. "Take this as my contribution. The staff, well, I know they're sad to see their EP go and so, well, they can have some drinks on me. Numb the pain or whatever."

Anna smiles kindly at Will as she takes the notes from him. "Thanks Will. You're a good guy, you know that? Doesn't matter if you do, the staff do and I do. Take it easy Will, I'll see you on Monday."

Will falls down into his chair and puts his head into his hands. He allows himself a few sobs before deciding to pull himself together so he can change, leave, and head back to his apartment for a much needed Scotch and a joint.

He's been home a couple of hours when he sees an email alert. It's from Mackenzie.

_Will -_

_I wanted to say goodbye to you, but I know by now that seeing me, let alone speaking to me, is something you want to avoid at all costs, and I didn't think I could face the prospect of you sending me away again._

_I'm on my way to Dulles, my flight leaves at 10, and all I can think of as I head to the airport is how far away from you I'm going. I would give anything to be in the same room as you right now, or sitting next to you on the balcony - I assume that's where you are, no doubt with a Scotch - and talking about our future, making plans for Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and marriage and children. I'd even let you mock my driving, or laugh at my English quirks, or tell me again about how you got your baseball injuries. I'd talk about anything with you if it meant that you'd talk to me, that you'd be in the same room as me._

_Imagining my life without you is the most difficult thing I've ever had to do, so I don't know what it will be like to have to live without you. I will never stop being in love with you. You're the love of my life; my person. When I told you about what I'd done, I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think I'd break your heart so badly. I just wanted to be honest with you so that we could build our future together with a clean slate. You have to believe me when I tell you, it meant nothing and it means even less now._

_It feels a bit silly to be writing this email, since I'm not even sure you'll read it, but I don't know how else to reach out to you. These last couple of weeks - god has it only been two weeks? - have been hell on earth, and I have spent every minute of every day wishing I could take back what I did, or at least take back what I said. I'll live with this guilt until the end of my days, knowing that I've lost the best man I've ever known because of my stupid ego, or because of my bloody Catholic guilt._

_I suppose deep down I can't let go of the thought that you might find it in that big heart of yours to forgive me and I keep sending you messages because that hope won't go away. Do you think one day you might forgive me? I hope so, because I know with every fibre of my being that you're who I want to be with._

_I love you, Will. Now and always._

_Love,_  
Mac  
xx 

After the tenth read of the email, and with tears streaming down his face and into his Scotch, Will hits delete. He leans back in his chair, puts on the Gladys Knight song and allows the tears to flow as he lights up his joint.

**Author's Note:**

> Just one - Anna, in my head, Allison Janney. Of course!


End file.
